


Unseen

by Lola_Rose_Robins



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Concerned Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola_Rose_Robins/pseuds/Lola_Rose_Robins
Summary: Crowley being an anxious mess.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Maybe Aziraphale/Crowley
Kudos: 9





	Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!  
> If anyone can tell me what is going on with our demon-boi, please leave a comment, because I don't even know what it is. I only know that it is a real thing because I struggle with it myself. Whoops!

The air was light and filled with sound. The soft chatter of humans, caught up in their own conversations, echoed off the walls. The clinking of glasses and cutlery adding to the cheery tune.

Aziraphale and Crowley followed the waiter that was leading them to their table, the best one of course, and sat down.

How this table had magically become free, staff did not know, nor did they care much. The two gentlemen that currently occupied it looked like they just belonged there.

Crowley placed his chin on his hand and turned to look at Aziraphale, the reason for him being in this restaurant in the first place. He was so engrossed in Aziraphale’s soft features that he barely noticed the waiter coming their way and was completely unprepared for the first question.

“What would you like to drink, sir?”

 _Shit._ Panic shot through his brain, what did he want to drink? He’d never been to this restaurant before, so the options were a mystery to him. _Do I ask? No, a place like this, you’re probably expected to know already._ Well, time to go with the safest option…

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” he answered with fake nonchalance, gesturing at Aziraphale.

——

“Are you sure you’re not hungry, dear?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Crowley answers quickly. He really is quite content to just sit there, drinking his champagne and watching his best friend enjoy a meal. Crowley’s stomach chose that specific moment to grumble, giving him away. Okay, maybe he is a little bit hungry, but that can wait. It doesn’t look like Aziraphale heard anything, and if he did he’s hiding it well.

Crowley wished he could be as carefree as Aziraphale was, but just being offered a menu and having to make a choice was enough to make his anxiety skyrocket. What if he chose the wrong thing? Staff might judge him, or perhaps the other customers would find his choices laughable. He knew this was all bullshit, obviously these people couldn’t care less about what he did or did not eat, and it’s not like he himself even cared, at all, he’s a demon for fuck’s sake! But the discomfort was still there and Crowley couldn’t get himself to order. No, he’d just have to wait, he’ll eat when he gets back home, like he always does, alone. _God, what if I’m a messy eater? Better not find that out here._

——

It was calm in the bookshop, just like it always was, always will be. Crowley and Aziraphale sat together in the backroom, drinking a glass of wine and talking about nothing in particular.

At some point Crowley checked his phone, as discreetly as possible. _Gah, is that the time already!_ He had to get his paperwork done tonight, or else there would be trouble, and not of the fun kind.

He could just do it here, in the bookshop, he had everything he needed with him anyway, but no matter how much he wanted to get up and do this one task, some other part of his brain kept fighting back, telling him how much he _didn’t_ want to do this. He could see the window through the open door, Aziraphale was in the room with him, no no no, can’t do it here.

“I have to go,” he simply blurted out. Aziraphale looked slightly taken aback, since he had not been included in the inner conversations on Crowley’s worries.

“Why?” Is all he could find himself to ask.

“I, uh, have some paperwork to do,” Crowley answered, fully aware of the fact that Aziraphale knows he could just do it here.

“You know you can just do it in the bookshop, dear.” Yup, there it is.

“No, I-I can’t…I gotta go…bye, angel.” And with that, Crowley is gone, but not before he could witness the heartbroken look on his angel’s face. He couldn’t stay, no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to get in trouble with Hell again. No matter how much it pained him, he had to be alone for this.

“I could go with you, if you want,” Aziraphale’s voice sounds out, hopeful with a hint of sadness.

“No, no, I’ll be fine on my own!” _Crowley, you stupid idiot!_ He mentally beat himself up over the way he’d left as he walked towards the Bentley and got in.

“Aziraphale would never judge me,” he said out loud to no one in particular.

 _You don’t know that,_ was the only answer his mind supplied him with.

“Shut up,” he silenced the voice in his head, turning up the music to drown out his thoughts as he drove home, alone.

Back home he finishes his paperwork quickly and goes to bed straight after. It hadn’t even taken him fifteen minutes…he could have still been at the bookshop right now, with Aziraphale, but instead he had to go all the way home for some stupid paperwork.

——

The next day, Crowley is back at the bookshop again, hanging out in the backroom while Aziraphale tends to the customers. He picks up a book and opens it to a random page. He’s so absorbed by the book that he doesn’t hear Aziraphale enter the room.

“What are you reading, dear?”

Crowley sits up with a start, quickly throwing the book on the floor behind the couch, out of sight. “Nothing, angel…Just-just sitting.” _You idiot, he’s never going to buy that!_

Aziraphale tilts his head to the side a little and sends him a questioning look, but doesn’t make a move to get the book off the floor. That’s a first.

Crowley decides that, maybe reading just isn’t for him, and pulls out his phone. He back up into the corner of the couch, hiding the screen from Aziraphale. He knows full well how this must look, how suspicious Aziraphale must be of him. _He probably thinks I’m looking at something weird, bad things…_ Anxious thought scream in Crowley’s mind, trying to take over, as his eyes scan the newspaper article on the little screen in front of him; apparently some rare species of chameleon has been rediscovered.

Aziraphale’s looking at him, he can just feel it. He turns his phone a little bit, to make sure his friends can’t see the screen, which is now displaying an article on some far-away planet (one that Crowley actually helped create).

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”

Crowley looks up, attempting to appear calm and collected, but only now noticing that he’s covered in anxiety sweat. “m’fine, angel.” He’s not fine, and he knows it, but it’s not like he has a good explanation for his behaviour now, does he. Just some stupid phobia causing him to panic over absolutely nothing. He never quite understood why this kind of stuff was even invented in the first place and made a mental not to have a strong word with whatever angel or demon designed it.

“Crowley, I can see you’re not doing well. You haven’t been doing well for quite a while. Please, just, talk to me, dear…”

Crowley let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He looked Aziraphale in the eyes and saw the clear concern on his face, there was no malice there, just love and concern.

Maybe it was time he talked to someone, time to open up.


End file.
